From a Distance
by lilylynn
Summary: Walking through the deserted building after hours, tends to get my mind racing.


Just a small one-shot and insight into Cal.

Thanks for the support! I appreciate your reviews.

I own nothing of Lie To Me.

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From a Distance

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Walking through the deserted building after hours tends to get my mind racing.

It was late and I was still at the office, thinking. Pondering the lives we live and the job that makes us who we are. I'm addicted to the work; spend numerous amounts of time concentrating on faces. She is much the same. Her focus is likely on the healthier side. Though, I do catch her more often, staying late in her office, writing reports, going through cases.

True to that, I find her some time after midnight, at her desk.

Everyone else in the building gone. Most of the lights off, leaving shadows playing off the walls. Faces on the walls seem darker, our outlines of their expressions almost look blurred. The name on the wall still lit, the name I've worked so hard to keep there, glaring down at others who don't believe in our work, what we do. Taunting liars, waiting for one to crumple under the pressure.

I walk slowly around the corner, hands pressed into my coat pockets, eyes landing on my destination.

Standing outside her office, far enough away to where she can't see me, I watch her. I'm always intrigued by her, always have been. She has this flush about her, a youthful blush of vigor that can create anyone to become fascinated.

I can see her now, reprimanding me for reading her. But I can't bloody well help it...any excuse just to look at her. My mask seems to be slipping a bit, showing things I, without exception, hide. Years of practice I suppose, but with her involved, there must be something in me desperate to escape.

And I don't know how much longer I can continue hiding it.

As my eyes journey her down turned face, something I've done a million times over, I feel a quake go through my body. The color she has on, a type of red, the color her lips are sometimes, compliments her in such a way. Brings out the rose of her cheeks, the light of her eyes.

She is truly a sight to behold, that girl. My partner. My friend. My...

She lifts a hand, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a movement she doesn't do often. As the hand falls back on the desk, she bumps her dangling earring enough to make it swing along her jaw. Paying no attention to it, she goes about her work, writing in a folder. She bites at her bottom lip for a moment, looking curiously at a piece of paper below her. The way her brow creases is fascinating to watch, her being perplexed enough to naturally have her lovely face move a certain direction.

The movement ceases.

Even from a distance, I see her take a breath, her chest coming to press tighter against her dress.

She's tired, but determined. Always determined to finish her work. The pride I have in her pulses through my veins. I sometimes wish I could easily let her know that I'm proud of her. That I do trust her with all I am. That I always have her in the highest regard. That her very presence here at The Lightman Group is what keeps everything going.

Keeps me going.

But that goes hand in hand with feelings, a department that is just not mine. If I try really hard at it, sure, I could do it. But it would leave me looking like an utter fool.

I hear a soft melody coming from her office. Some kind of classic piano, a sound we both have admitted to liking. She has said before that she doesn't get to use the music player in her office as often as she'd like. Perhaps another reason why she is staying later than usual. That and the unknown amounts of paperwork she somewhat volunteers to do.

The lighting is dim in her office, just two desk lamps create a small, warm glow. If you squinted a fair amount, you could see some lights from the building across the street stream through her blinds. So we aren't the only ones who stay at work this late.

She is sitting at an angle, meaning she's probably got a foot tucked up under her.

Comfortable.

She's at ease, knowing there's no need to be professional when no one else is around. A pair of her favorite kind of heels are laying on the floor. No doubt she kicked em' off once she knew the coast was clear.

Now comes a yawn, followed by dropping the pen amongst the files and leaning back in her chair. She stretches and the look on her face tells me she thinking about stopping for the night. More than likely, the paper she was currently working on could definitely be saved for another day.

She sways her chair a little, moving along with the highs and lows of the music that flowed through the room.

There is so much there when it comes to her. She's so strong, independent and very good at what she does. Maybe that's what's so unique about her. About us. But there are still things we both hide. Things we can't let free.

So I settle for the brief moments like this. Where I'm able to watch and study her. To openly explore her with my eyes, but from an expanse of space. I find myself longing for her to look up suddenly, seize me with those eyes. Being caught staring may not, at first, sound appeasing.

Embarrassing...sure.

But being caught by her, only her, well it's like a thrill. She has these beautiful blue eyes that I can just see looking up in shock, then wonder. To know that they're staring at nothing, no one else, but me.

Someday we won't have to hide. Feelings that were so used to being pushed way down out of the way, suddenly seemed to escape and flourish in every pore, every fiber. Even the air around me felt different.

I smile.

She's getting up now, straightening her dress, along with her desk. I take one last look, then turning, head for the exit.

Whoever has said in the past that I'm bloody stoic, have no feelings what so ever, can't be moved by anything; well, they haven't met her. They haven't seen me without a mask.

Under all of that, I am human. And I have fallen deeply.


End file.
